


Blue Shutters, Red Door

by CoffeeAndConjunctions



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Eventual Smut, F/M, Slow Burn, Vampire!Poe Dameron, Werewolf!Kylo, Werewolf!Rey, being human AU, ghost!finn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeAndConjunctions/pseuds/CoffeeAndConjunctions
Summary: She should have never stopped to help the smiling, devil may care Poe Dameron in the alley that night. It all started then, and now she's sharing a fridge with a vampire with a perchance for O negative, a house with the lingering spirit of a young man who couldn't move on and has the local werewolf packs  sniffing around, trying to recruit her.Honestly, maybe going back to Jakku wasn't such a bad idea.





	Blue Shutters, Red Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeling in some places, the faded blue that might have once been navy contrasts so sharply with the vibrant red of the door that she's not sure if it's an eye sore or simply shabby chic. Poe has his customary grin, hip nudging her as if asking what she thinks, and it's a good question Rey isn't sure she's got an answer for. 
> 
> "You're serious."
> 
> "As a heart attack--well, you know, if I was human and worried about that sort of thing. So maybe serious as a staking?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feed back is always appreciated, as is critique, and if there are any willing betas out there, i am in need of one for this story.

The thrumming bass of the club's music could be heard even from behind the chipped brick of the establishment's wall and if not for her keen ears, she would have missed the sounds of a scuffle. It's none of her business, tucking her hands into the pockets of her threadbare hoodie, she's about to pass the mouth of the alley when she scents blood in the air mixing in with the damp scent of the alley and it's lingering rot of yesterday's take out and cigarettes. 

Groaning, because this means she's going to be late for tonight's lesson, and the dojo paid her decent money to teach the pre-teens and younglings basic forms, as well as giving her access to a practice space when she was on her own time, though she doubts they'd be as willing to let her near their children if they new her secret. Slipping the quarterstaff from it's sheath, Rey slinks closer, keeping to the shadows to avoid being seen before she was ready to strike. Three men are surrounding a fourth, shorter man with a mop of dark hair and a rather easy going grin for someone who was bleeding from a cut above his brow in a slow trickle.

"This really isn't a fight you guys are looking for." A hint of an accent colors the shorter man's words, only on the dip of the vowels, but it's enough to show that English was not his first language.

Unsure as to whether this man was pure bravado or simply stalling for time, Rey approaches as quietly as possible, bypassing a fallen carton of Chinese food and a bottle of what smelled oaky enough to be whiskey, she notices the dark gaze of the smiling man shift subtly to her, and wonders how he had found her out.

"Oh I think we are, I'm going to teach you a lesson about touching other people's things." A burly man, weighing at least twice the slighter Hispanic male merely shrugs and replies in a careless way, shaking his index finger back and forth. 

"If you're referring to the delectable little blonde, then I'll have to disagree with you. People haven't been owned since before my _second_ century." 

A fist flies and connects squarely with the jaw of the shortest male, and that seems to be the signal for the others to spring into action, which prompts Rey into the fray, hoping to keep the loud mouthed Hispanic from being completely throttled. By the time one of the assailants has registered that her staff has landed a sound blow at the back of his knee, he's crumbling to the ground and she's moved on to the next man, noting that the 'victim' is holding is own, dodging blows as they rain down on him.

It's a short, messy fight, but relatively quiet as between Rey and the Hispanic they eliminate the attackers and leave them a pile on the grimy floor of the alley, scrunching up her nose, she gives another kick at the thigh of the man who had seemed to be the ring leader. Keeping a loose, ready grip on her staff, she turns to observe the still smiling male to her left, hands tucked into his pocket and looking for all the world as if he was taking a stroll through the park.

"Never thought I'd see the day a First Order _pup_ would have my back in a street fight." Quirking a brow at the staff she has poised at chest level, the dark haired man moves it aside with his index finger and Rey is shocked enough to allow the weapon to be moved without resistance. 

"W-What?" A single choked out word is all she manages, knuckles going white around the staff. 

"Oh corazón, you're new in town, aren't you?" 

* * *

 And that's how she meets Poe Dameron, _vampire heart throb_ , which is exactly how he introduces himself with a courtly bow and a wink, she's in enough of a daze to allow him to lead her to a local dinner where he lays out the whole situation for her. Explains the lay of the land, how the supernatural hierarchy works in the city, a constant flux of struggle between the First Order and the Resistance. He takes on a concerned look when Rey starts breathing heavy and leans forward to grip the plastic of the diner table and hears a metallic crunch beneath her fingers as the edges start to fold in. A cool hand brushes her knuckles and it jolts her out of the forming panic attack, making her remember that she's in public and that the walls have eyes. 

"I thought coming to the city--I just thought I was getting away from it all." Taking a sip of the tepid water an aging waitress had delivered for them, she clears her throat and sighs out a deep breath. 

"Take it you weren't born, which means you were bitten." 

"Yes." 

Poe doesn't push more then that, as if sensing the subject would shut her off completely to the conversation. It's not a memory she revisits during her waking hours, seeing as it occupies enough of her and had left a permanent mark on her skin. A phantom itch rises from her back, as if the past was clawing it's way into her skin again, shaking it off, Rey focuses on playing with the paper wrapper of her straw, wondering where to go from here. 

"You won't last long here without a pack, I don't know how it works in the boonies, but here a lone wolf is very often a dead wolf." Lowered voice, he's leaned forward and clasped his hands atop the table, and she can feel the gravity of his words sinking into her bones. Sweat prickles at the nape of her neck, what strays have slipped from the three buns she customarily places her hair in are plastered to her skin, it was queer not being able to scent anything other then cologne from the man in front of her, which was most likely having to do with him being a vampire. 

Which was a thing.

 _God_ , life had been a topsy-turvy hell ride since that night in the desert, and it showed no signs of slowing down no matter how far ahead of it she ran. 

* * *

Two months later, Rey is scrutinizing a peeling window shutter, the faded blue that might have once been navy contrasts so sharply with the vibrant red of the door that she's not sure if it's an eye sore or simply shabby chic. Poe has his customary grin in place, hip nudging her as if asking what she thinks, and it's a good question Rey isn't sure she's got an answer for.

"You're serious."

"As a heart attack--well, you know, if I was human and worried about that sort of thing." His grins turns into a full blown smile, gleaming white and infectious.

 _And so was the bit about sun light,_ she quips silently to herself.

"So maybe serious as a staking? Which is also, for future reference, a myth. We're hard putos to kill."

The original reaction to Dameron's suggestion that they move in together, him needing a roommate and her needing a place to stay after getting evicted for health code issues with the building she was living in, had been to throw her head back and laugh. A righteous roar of mirth that she couldn't contain and had caused spontaneous giggling throughout the rest of the day. Now standing on the side walk, gazing up the crooked steps of the single family house, laughing is the farthest thing from her mind. 

 A home, an actual home with someone to come back to. 

"Shit, okay. No hook ups though, I'm not walking in on you doing only God know's what on the couch. You keep your promiscuity out of the house, and we have a deal." 

Snickering, Poe accepts the hand she's trust out and shakes it firmly, no doubt remembering the last time she had walked up the stairs of his apartment only to find that he was having rather acrobatic sex with a young man on the staircase. Horror and morbid curiosity had kept her staring for longer then she should have, but she hadn't been aware that people could bend in such a way and still somehow remain connected, and his laughter had echoed in her ears for days. 

"Deal." 

They get the place unbelievably cheap, much cheaper then it should be with it's two large bedroom and matching bathrooms, with the open concept kitchen and the connecting living room, there was even a small yard with wilted grass clinging to color against the chill of winter. Rey doesn't question it, after all she's seen Poe work his hypnotic stare before--narrowed her eyes and questioned whether it had been used on her before being informed it didn't work on wolves--and life had taught her that sometimes in order to survive, less then morally correct things needed to occur. It was a tricky balance of karma she kept, but she figured it still owed her after  allowing her to come under the care of Unkar Plutt, and everything that subsequently happened. 

Mostly furnished with thrift store pieces, and the occasional priceless antique from Poe, their home was filled with knick-knacks and color, as if it was a battle ground or their clashing tastes in decoration. And somehow, it worked; the beige couch Poe had managed to nab at half price had a well worn blanket Rey had found in the depths of a Salvation Army bin a few towns over, and the walls were covered with art and the book shelves and spare niches housed every manner of plant that Rey could think to buy and coax to flourish. 

It was a home, more so then she had ever possessed, and if the occasional long moments of contemplation she caught Poe having when looking at their kitchen, it was the same for him. 

Things were peaceful. They were working out and they had fallen into a routine, and it all seemed like it was going to be okay. 

Which is of course when it all goes to shit.

* * *

 It starts off small, her astrophysics text book isn't where she left it, she stumbles on it going out the door, laying on the front steps. Frowning, she makes the rational assumption that it must have fallen out of her back before coming inside, though she distinctly remembers studying from this text last night.  Dameron complains about his missing leather jacket, leans against the threshold of her bedroom door and questions hers on it's whereabouts, all she has to offer him is a shrug. 

The sharp sound of dishes breaking wakes her from a sound sleep, exiting her room and locking gazes with Poe as he does the same, they silently creep down the stairs and prepare to give what they assume is a burglar the lesson of life time, only to be greeted with an empty kitchen and broken glass littering the floor. The shambles of their coffee maker nearly make her whimper, and she lumbers back into bed already dreading having to make it to campus without caffeine. 

Things continue like that for weeks, water faucets turning on, broken electronics and missing items--until finally, about three months after they have moved into the house, it happens. Rey is wiping the condensation from the mirror after a shower, squeezing tooth paste onto her brush when the reflection of the mirror shows her she's not alone in the room. Reflex takes over and she's turning, pivoting on the balls of her feet to give the fist her hand has formed more momentum. It should have connected squarely with the jaw of the intruder, a dark skinned man with full lips pulled into a dour expression, but she stumbles and nearly punches the wall when her first merely goes through him. 

Blinking at the intruder, she looks at him, and he looks at her.

"Your can't carry a tune worth a damn, you know that?" 

When Poe returns home from...well, from wherever it was that Poe spends his days, Rey doesn't ask because she's fairly sure it's gang related, he does a double take at Rey curled up on the couch, mug of tea in hand and the young man sitting beside her.

"Poe, this is our house's Ghost. Ghost, meet Poe."

Pursed lips and a disbelieving gaze is all the reaction she gets for a moment, before he's walking over to the decanter of scotch and pouring himself a drink.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me not to go into the light?"  

Rolling her eyes, Rey shoots her roommate an exasperated look, knowing he dealt with all stress with humor and shrugs when he narrows his eyes at her, as if somehow this was her fault. And perhaps she should be more concerned, but she was a werewolf, living with a vampire, how much worse could a haunted house really be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT TIME:_  
> 
> Our friendly Ghost is given a name. Rey has a run in with Kylo Ren. And Poe just really, really, needs hair gel.


End file.
